Forevermore
by AbandonWhisper
Summary: Cloud refuses to believe that his own personal ghost is a probable harbinger of the end of the world. Again.
1. Chapter 1

Disclamer: don't own shite, dammit.

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

Half-finished bottle of beer

Halfway down to death

'Can dead guys come back?' – Cid.

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><p>There was nothing out of the ordinary here at the Northern Crater, not that it had ever been just an average, run-of-the-mill landmark to begin with. Cid pressed his lips onto the cigarette and inhaled deeply. He exhaled seconds later, taking his time in releasing the smoke into the already thick air through his purse lips. 'Normal' here was to be used in the loosest sense of the word.<p>

'Wonderful, just wonderful,' he mumbled out loud. 'Oi, you down there! Can you find anything?'

Cid was feeling particularly vexed about all of this, and the man was usually vexed anyway. Standing here, looking down at the lifestream spring that was far beneath his feet, he felt something had rubbed him the wrong way, like spilling your tea onto the kitchen floor while you're about to sip it, or stepping on something cold and sludgy and smelling it through your skin. Maybe it was the sheer height between the cliff edge, where Cid was, and the undulating current in the inlet, where the lifestream was, that was bothering him. At any given time, he would delight to soar in the skies in his great plane. He had even been in outer space, where the miles in distance were several dozens of digits and numbers, distance so vast that it could diminish one human being and nobody would notice; but here he was, standing on a fledgling precipice, and he was feeling an acute sense of vertigo.

'I said, you found anything yet?' He bellowed at the hapless men of his unit at the other end of this cavernous room inside the crater. Incompetent bastards, Cid thought darkly.

'No, sir, none whatsoever! My meter here's not picking up anything on the rock bed that you wouldn't see anywhere else!' An enthusiastic looking boy answered.

'Then get over here, and see to the spring!'

Just where was that stupid ninja girl? This was clearly her sort of assignment, he frowned, then frowned even more when he belatedly realized that he was the one with the airship. His men scrambled near to where he was with their mako and whatnot detection devices. Cid watched them disinterestedly slicing the meters through the air, holding them out this way and that with a look of anxiety and intent concentration. So I make the bastards nervous? He thought. Tough! This seemed to have gotten on his nerves even more. He had always been under the impression that he was such an efficient and pleasant man to work for.

A different youth repeatedly looked at his mako instrument then around the large jagged, stony walls in careful appraisal. Automatically, this caught Cid's attention. So that one's found something, huh.

'Sir! The air in this section of the crater is infused with a large amount of diluted mako. My meter's been picking it up ever since we were within a 2-mile radius of the source. I've never seen anything like it, the trace of mako tends to drifts off from wherever it's hidden, but not this much!' The boy was shouting with obvious astonishment on his face.

Cid nodded approvingly. Rather than stubbing out his charred cigarette onto the earth, he took out from his left pocket a brilliantly shining fire materia, and with a mere glance at the tiny globe, singed the remains of his used cigarette into almost imperceptible black bits. It didn't feel right littering on this ground. There was indeed something else infused into this place: namely how being in this large, nature-formed chamber could inspire in him terrible dread and concrete trepidation. _All who fear the lord. _He was briefly lost in deep, troubling contemplation, which was of-course stupid, oh so fucking stupid- because Sephiroth was dead. Dead guys don't come back. For the third time…, he thought wryly. So he rummaged in his coat pocket to retrieve another cigarette and deftly lighted it with the materia in his other hand; all of this was done with practiced adeptness, as if he was doing it for the umpteenth time. Which he was.

'Yeah, you got that right. What's your crude evaluation?' He said to the boy that had spoken up just now, wanting to gauge his interpretation of the situation.

'That something's happened here. I'd say something similar to a huge tidal wave of mako rose up from the lifestream and tunneled through our immediate zone and its vicinity,' he answered without hesitation.

The other 6 people paid attention to this, and they were looking at the boy with disbelief, some with cynicism.

Smart, Cid thought.

Before this mission got under way, those who had alerted his attention to this phenomenon, namely Reeves, then later on Red XII, had told him only the minute of details about what was happening. They had informed him of the unusual lifestream upsurge occurring in the Northern Crater, and asked him to conduct an investigation into it, reporting to them anything that was out of character in the area. The men under his charge had been briefed on even less information regarding the background of this incident. It would have had been nice for Red to have told him what it was specifically that he should be on the lookout for. On the surface, he was just out on a standard inspection assignment, but Cid had his suspicions.

Maybe they trusted in his intuition. Maybe they thought he could figure it out his own. Still, should've told him, though- this reeked of mild insult, he brooded with a wounded look on his face.

'Right, people. We're going to split into 2 units of 4,' Cid ordered. 'Rifles at the ready, we're gonna take a little walk around the area. Look out for anything that you deem out of place: monsters acting weird, fluctuating mako level in the area, a psychopath emerging from the lifestream etc etc. That sort of thing.'

Perhaps he should have omitted the last bit out, as there was a general puzzled 'do you get it?' look amongst his men.

'The critters here are nothing to poke fun of, I'll say. So avoid confrontation if possible, but remember that you are armed for a reason.' Abruptly, Cid's brows knotted together even more and he groaned in frustration, 'why the fuck, they didn't send me more people only Gaia knows!' The men in his outfit were capable former SOLDIERS alright, but the Northern Crater was an infamously evil and immense place, and the creatures residing here equally evil and ferocious.

'I think I can be of help to your current plight,' said a dark shadow stalking out of the darkness of the archway that turned out to be Vincent Valentine. Stepping out behind him were several WRO personnel.

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><p>After a long, fairly strenuous day, Cid sat down with a bottle of cold beer. Just holding its neck in his hand was a comforting sensation enough. He then proceeded to pop the cap off with his teeth, the gush of compressed air from the open bottle and the satisfying little sound that accompanied it were just music to Cid's ears. Today had been a long day.<p>

Vincent entered the cockpit where Cid was situated in, and promptly sat next to him on the co-pilot seat They were all back on his airship now, including Vincent and his men. As callous as he could be at times, Cid showed that he, too, could be an accommodating host; after all, they were playing for the same goal and were old companions. Even though Vincent was stationed at a base nearby for the duration of this mission, his Highwind was much closer in proximity to the Crater.

'When are you people gonna start letting me in the loop, huh?' Cid necked his beer in obvious relish, nonetheless he kept questioning Vincent with his eyes. 'Oh man, that was fucking exquisite! Can you honestly tell me that there's anything better than a cold beer after a rough day?'

Vincent looked at him with a face that seemed to say, I can name plenty.

'But in all seriousness, you gotta start telling me something _sometimes_, you idio- uhh—Vincent.' For this, Cid gave an apologetic look. He had long ago thought everybody's name was idiot- old habits died hard. He continued, 'like how you were gonna join in for this little exploration gig we have going on here. You people don't keep me clued in. Honest to Gaia, it hurts sometimes! Where's the communication?'

'I did tell you. I believe you were inebriated at the time,' Vincent replied dryly.

'Occupational hazards!' Cid guffawed. Then he took a big gush of beer from the bottle. 'I need to wind down after a hard day's work. You know how it is.'

Again, Vincent stared at him with a blank expression. He turned away to look though the airship window, but he was unable to make out anything in the impenetrable darkness. All the while, Cid was contentedly drinking out of his beer bottle. The sudden silence that had befallen indicated that it was laden with unsaid words. They were both deep in thought.

The younger-looking man was the first one to speak, 'I'm not certain of what is happening either. Up until now, I had been occupied in surveying other areas not far from our Northern Crater post.' He turned to Cid as he was talking.

'What other areas?' Cid questioned.

'There are inlets, fissures of various sizes that spread all over the Planet, connecting to the Lifestream. I was asked to examine a number of them in proximity to the Crater,' Vincent answered.

Growling, Cid ventured conspiratorially, 'Something's not being said.'

'I wonder.'

Cid's mouth moved as if to speak, but then he stopped, instead his gaze was directed downwards to his translucent brown bottle that he held in both of his hands. He looked like he was examining it with some sort of curiosity, but his eyes held a vacant, blank gloss. With more intensity, he continued to scrutinize it. Vincent knew that his thoughts were somewhere further away. And he was right; Cid thought of the Crater as his eyes were kept on the round opening of the bottle, he thought about how the fragile bottle resembled the shape of a volcano, its beer just a moving outline of clear liquid. Cid imagined that it wasn't a beverage in there, but something much worse, something that had a potential to erupt without warning, sending out pernicious seeds and destruction. This image called him back to the moment he was standing on the edge of the precipice that descended a substantial distance down to the Lifestream spring, only this time he was dangerously close to falling off. Some small rocks would be plunging down first, taking some time to reach the bottom, finally being enveloped by the stream, leaving no trace of their existence behind. He remembered he had watched the flow of the mako river today imagining the exact same scene. The Lifestream current had appeared to be flowing without any conception of time then- perpetual, endless. The more he had watched it the more he was drawn into its hypnotizing grip. And in that surreal trance he had been able to visualize Sephiroth emerging from the thick layer of the stream: because in that timeless realm of the Lifestream, anything was possible.

Vincent's voice interrupted Cid's reverie as if someone had jolted him from a dream, so unconcerned was he to the present reality, 'What seems to be troubling you?'

'Sephiroth's back,' he said.

'Why do you say that?' Vincent asked in a hushed voice.

'Oh shit, even that's too horrible to say!' Cid thought he had lost all appetite for his cold beverage. 'I was thinking now, you know, that Reeves and Red probably share that same sentiment: they didn't want to tell us anything, because they didn't want to believe it themselves. You know how sometimes you keep quiet about something because you don't want it to be real.' He looked down at his beer bottle then fluidly leaned over to the side and put it down on the floor. It stood there neglected by his feet half-emptied. 'Why do I say it? Because I just feel it,' he took a moment to glance at Vincent. 'The guy's an aberration of nature.'

It was plain to see that Cid's revelation had troubled the other man. Vincent held a pained expression on his face. 'I didn't want to acknowledge it, but I had a hunch that something awful such as this was imminent in coming.'

'It's funny—ok, not so funny—but we've killed him twice. I mean, can dead guys come back? Well, for the third time,' Cid looked as if he was chewing this over. 'Ok, I see my own point.'

'I'm worried about Cloud, Cid,' Vincent looked at him straight in the eyes and maintained his gaze for a long time. 'If—,' he paused. 'If you and I are sensing 'his' return, then I can't imagine what Cloud is going through.'

They didn't have to think about it, everyone in their circle was positive of the knowledge that Cloud and Sephiroth possessed some kind of connection to one another, as warped and ominous as that may be.

'I'm sure the little guy will be alright,' Cid placated, affecting a grin. 'He's tough, that one.' But he doubted the sureness of his words.

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><p>Cloud was dreaming. In his dream, he was falling. But no matter how long time had seemed to be passing, he could not hit the ground. It wasn't that he wouldn't hit the ground, he simply <em>couldn't <em>hit the ground. The sensation of plummeting through the air or some other kind of dream-like fiber was very manifest to him, but he felt as if he was suspended in time. Time ceased to hold any notion at this instantaneous present.

_To conquer time is to conquer everything else, _he heard someone speak in a voiceless transmission of exchange. Mindspeak, he thought vaguely.

And there Cloud was, trapped in a far-removed world, forever descending halfway to his death.


	2. Chapter 5

A/N- Another one. I'm not gonna rest until I've got this where I want it.

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

Dirty window:

Swiping at the grime to look inside

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><p>A man, and it was the same man <em>again, <em>was leaning to the side with one elbow on the bar; he kept stealing looks at Tifa every now and again, trying to appear nonchalant and composed at intervals in between. She was polishing some pint glasses behind the wooden bar, and he clearly didn't think she had noticed, but, of-course, she had. She wouldn't be much of a fighter, would she, if she couldn't even register one tipsy, besotted man within her zone of awareness.

'Fucking pervert! You's coming in here with one thing on your mind.' Tifa could have sworn cigarette trays had spun about on the bar as Barret squeezed beside her and in front of the inebriated man, bellowing in his face. 'This ain't the place for that. Get out!'

Noises- clattering of the stool and rustling of clothes and hands scrambling to get away- were all Tifa could here before there was an empty space to the side of the counter where the gawking man had been seconds ago. The customers in her establishment had turned around to observe the ruckus in a way that someone had accidentally switched the remote and landed on a politics channel, obligingly looked for a bit, and then switching away again, they turned back to immerse themselves in themselves again. This was a tavern, after all, stuff like this happened all the time. _All the time: _Tifa glared at Barret, who was all muscles and an embodiment of scariness, and looked as if he had achieved something praiseworthy by chasing her customer (albeit a creep of a customer, it was a customer nonetheless) out of her bar. He looked incredibly proud.

'You are destroying my business,' she hissed.

The pride on Barret's face shattered and he became irritated (usually, this didn't take much), 'Gets on my nerves, them cockroaches perving at you.'

'Barret, don't start,' Tifa pointed her finger in his face playfully, though the warning tone of her voice suggested otherwise. She didn't care much to listen to one of his old platitudes even one more time. 'Let them look, all they can do is look.' Anyone could peruse a menu as much as they liked, it didn't necessitate that they had to order anything, or even that they had the means to order. Rarely was there such a thing as a harmful look, and even if she was wrong anyhow, Tifa was one of the strongest warriors on the Planet. 'I can take care of myself, big man,' Tifa smiled at Barret. Patting his bulky arm, she walked past him to fetch another tray of newly cleaned glasses that needed polishing.

It was true that she had used to attire herself in skirts so short it made passersby skittish for own her safety, and crop-tops so low cut and figure-hugging that sometimes even she had wondered if this look had really been in vogue. She'd had later on found out that that particular economic look of her bygone era had _never _really been in vogue. But she had been young enough at the time and mistakes were a welcome part-and-parcel of life in those days; besides she had been naive in her youthful enthusiasm and truly thought that clothes were just clothes, and not a categorical social measure. After the momentous battle at the Crater 5 years ago, Tifa had decided it was time for a new look, so the black training gear that she now wore had stuck and it had become a new permanent feature of her day-to-day wear ever since. It got along with her well, alright, she'd found that it was more suited to her lightning-quick and furious movements in fights; for instance, her run-in with silver-haired and brutish Loz 3 years past.

Having said that, though, another reason for her change of style had to be attributed to Yuffie. On one occasion, when Tifa had been hosting a gathering for her comrades, the loopy - and drunk at the time, no doubt- ninja had leaned across the bar, stared at her breasts like it was some kind of a curious knickknack, and then lifted her finger up as if to poke at it, slurring something like she'd understood why Tifa's business was doing well, but then proceeded to sliding off the counter in one smooth drop. That had done it for Tifa.

'Sorry…' and then Barret mumbled a muffled, but I think of you as my sister, sort of sentiment.

Resigned and amused, Tifa shook her head. Barret had always been this way, looking out for her without looking ahead. ''s ok, Barret. You're family.' She turned to him cheekily, 'So if my bar goes under because of you, I become your baggage.'

Barret laughed nervously. 'Listen, I'm shooting off for a couple of days. Already said bye to Marlene; don' t know where that Denzel boy is, though. Shifty kid,' he complained.

In Cloud's absence—and directly because of it, Tifa thought bitterly—Denzel had become a rather difficult boy; though, it wasn't like he was outright subversive or anything, he was still a subtler brand of rebellion. 'He's probably out on the plains again. I'll have a word,' she said with an absence of mind. From time to time, Cloud would come for a visit, but the point was, he no longer lived here. Then having finally clocked Barret's leaving, she asked, 'You're going again? That's weird. I thought you're taking it easy for a while, Barret.' Tifa recalled that Barret had signed a contract with the WRO that stipulated a lesser workload.

'Yeah, something sorta came up. I'll clue you in later- gotta run.' Barret inspected a large suitcase he was carrying, and having brought it up to his chest, he ran his good hand along its length as if to reassure himself: the case contained his gun-arm, Tifa surmised. He was wearing a citizen's model bionic hand currently, the one that he'd had custom made especially in Gongaga.

Indeed something was up, Tifa thought. But, 'Bye,' was all she said.

Offhandedly, Barret brought a hand up and made as if to wave at her. He strolled towards the door without another word. But abruptly, having opened the door, he turned around to face Tifa, bright sunlight filtered in and covered half of his left shoulder like paint carelessly slopped on it. 'Cloud buzzed; saids he might be in town soon.'

She nodded numbly. She had moved on.

'Well, take care, Tiff.'

* * *

><p>Tifa knew she had lost Cloud for good 3 years ago.<p>

The trigger had been one day.

That day was a day of celebration, great remembrance and joy: they had defeated the Remnants, and stopped Sephiroth from conquering the Planet for his diabolical ends. As if in happiness, the Planet and the Holy powers that be had bestowed wonderful, healing rain on them and the children's Geostigma became the thing of the past. She knew that it was on that exact day, actually. During their initial pilgrimage to salvage the Planet's fate and leading up to the time of the Remnants, she had been nothing more than a support, an emotional succor that Cloud had reluctantly and warily let in. She had understood, certainly, why this was- after Zack, after Aerith, even after Sephiroth, it was too much for Cloud, who had had a tender, almost fragile, heart uncharacteristic of a soldier who had trodden a path through deaths and blood and grief to become a hero he was now.

That day he had taken her hands into his and reassured her that he could taste the soothing water of forgiveness, '_No more dilly-dallying,' _he had said with a smile. Tifa remembered she had been stunned then: it was such an honest, warmest smile she'd had ever seen in Cloud, in all of his tortured soul and his baggage. She had nearly cried at the time and went in for a tentative hug- tentative because she had been denied that physical closeness before, like a girl in a once bitten, twice shy analogy that she was.

But Cloud had lied, or he must've had unwittingly done so, because the next day, he had piled all of his possessions onto Fenrier in a big rucksack, said good-bye to Denzel and Marlene, and finally bade Tifa farewell in a tragic hug, and she had sobbed then and crumpled onto his shoulder. Why, she had asked, tears streaking down her face, but didn't Cloud say he wanted to become family again? Why had he gotten her hopes up? What was his damned reason for going away again? Denzel had been looking up into Cloud's face expectantly and Marlene had run over and hopped into Cloud's arms in desperate supplication. Why, Cloud, the poor little girl was demanding, too. Turning her face full of raw emotions away, Tifa could hear Cloud attempted at pacifying the now crying Marlene in his arms. 'But, your Daddy will be back soon, he told me himself, Marlene. And here now, I won't be gone forever, you know.' This seemed to have calmed the precious little girl down, though Denzel would have none of it himself: with tears clogging up his defiant eyes, he had told Cloud that he hated him and never wanted to see him again. It was evident that Cloud had been hurt by that piercing statement from the boy that was now running away to the back of Seventh Heaven. Pushing though his shame, Tifa could see Cloud from the corner of her eyes making his way towards her again, with Marlene in tow. He gently deposited her into Tifa's arms, who had then calmed down into just small sobs and hiccups. Tifa herself on the other hand was silent. His eyes had been sad, she could see, then with a heart-breaking tenderness he lifted his hand up to stroke her face, his thumb smoothing the skin of her cheek. She would never forget what was to come next, a single traitorous tear of hers slipped out on that cheek in anticipation to what Cloud had been about to say in that moment in time:

'Tifa, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I can't give you what you want. I really am. But I have something that I have to do. Yesterday had cleared a path for me to do that, for sure, it's cleared my head up a little. Thank you for everything, Tifa. It was thanks to you that I've come to have this liberty. So now, I have to finish what's been started, you have to understand.'

Upon hearing that she was naturally concerned, but she wouldn't let herself speak lest she would break down again into a sorry mess. She looked at Cloud one last time before she saw the back of his form walking away: walking away from her.

* * *

><p>c<p>

But just as one dear person had left her life, another dear person reentered. Shortly after, Barret came back from one of his expeditions- for good. Now he only ventured out on an ad hoc basis for the WRO, returning after a short burst of time. It was only after some subtle probing and interrogation with him did she come to the knowledge that it was at a request of Cloud's that the hunk of man stayed here with Tifa and her honorary children. '_'Sides, it's bout time that I settled down for Marlene, be here for her more and all that. And spikey-head's begging seemed like the opportunity to stop what I was doing and reevaluate, you know? So next day, I kicked the door down to Rufus's office, and the rest is how it is now.'_

Tifa knew the reason why, yes, she knew the reason why Cloud had left. She had seen it. When they had been living together, she could often hear it: Cloud's nightmares tormenting him. She had peaked through into his room once and saw him writhing, and fisting his bed sheets into his hands, the expression on his face suffering as if from an intense physical pain. As if somebody was jabbing at him with hot pokers, he would twist this way then that in wild struggling, groaning and making furious, frightening noises, and sweat would form in a so copious amount that she could see it as a glistening sheen on his skin even in the darkness of his room, and she would worry more and more. She would bring the subject up delicately in conversation, but Cloud had always given her his silence as a reply; that or his back walking out of the door, although he would come back in those times without fail. Yes, it was different this time after all.

On more than one occasion, she could hear Sephiroth's name slipping out from Cloud's mouth in his frequent night terrors. _Sephiroth!_ Cloud would scream out in anguish, in pain, and in whatever else that was searing and unrestraint emotions. She could sometimes hear his sobbing, too, and following this she had gathered that Cloud would always wake up, because afterwards she wouldn't be able to hear anything anymore in those nights; not the night terrorizing him nor the steadying and slowing down of his breathing which would indicate his consciousness relinquishing its hold on him. In those times, with the utmost intensity, Tifa had hated Sephiroth, hated everything that he stood for: for what he had done to the Planet, for what he had done to Cloud; no, it was more like, what he could do to Cloud. And in her contempt and loathing, Tifa could have sworn that by her woman's intuition she had felt Sephiroth to be a curse to Cloud's otherwise untarnished and ordinary life as a man. She had been resolute then, that was what Sepiroth was to Cloud- a curse that could never be removed, that marred his existence like a great bane of this Planet that would come calamitously crashing down in his life time and time again.

Tifa knew the reason why Cloud had abandoned the home they had made together, her and the children; even though he had never loved her in a way that she had wanted to be loved, Cloud didn't leave by choice, didn't cast all things he had held to be most cherished to the wind in apathetic neglect. She knew what he had meant by 'finishing what's been started'. Through twisted, surreptitious whispers and warped, misdirected hands of the Fates, Sephiroth had been calling out to Cloud once again, haunting him in his sleep, stealing what little snatches of peace Cloud had had. Like a fresh scar that the body couldn't quite heal, Sephiroth crept inside Cloud's skin, festering, ghosting over him in a sick, tenacious sense of claim and dominance. Those two were each other's nemesis and also destiny, that much she had painfully come to accept. What she didn't understand was why. The Planet should've had rued the day she had given life to Sephiroth and raised him on her surface, because now it was up to Cloud- and Cloud alone- to stop him yet again.

The day Cloud had left, Tifa just knew that Sephiroth's return was only a matter of time.


End file.
